Before Dawn
by Praetor Corvinus
Summary: My name is Greg Sanders and I'm losing my mind.


_Here's my little Halloween tale. Take it how you will. _

* * *

If you are reading this than I hope you understand better than I do. I can't explain it. I can't grasp it. I can't even fathom it. It's there in every shadow. I see it in the corner of my eye. It lives in the recesses of my mind. I don't know what it is and I don't want to.

My name is Greg Sanders and I'm losing my mind.

I don't know when I started seeing it. Or them. I don't really know how many there are. I only see one. It could be the same. I can't tell. I can't even describe it. It looks like a shadow. It is a shadow. I think it has arms. There appears to be legs. And a head.

A head with no face.

The first time I took notice of it was at a crime scene. Actually, I usually see it at a crime scene. I was standing in the field where Tara Matthews was found. She was a burn victim, self-inflicted. Her immolation started a fire that claimed the life of another man. A star gazer. The scene had been cleared and was no longer roped off. The case was solved.

But I had to go there. I needed to see. And I did.

Where vegetation once grew, there was only death. The night air smelled foul. The stink of charred human flesh lingered in the breeze. Not a sound could be heard. No crickets. No coyotes. Nothing. Sadness and despair enveloped the entire hillside.

I stood alone. I wanted to feel out the scene. I wanted to understand.

Then I saw it. Sort of. I saw movement from my left. Or my right? I can't remember. I turned my head. Nothing. Then I heard the sound. I can't describe it. Something between clawing and slithering. A snake with front limbs, scratching at the ground.

That was the first time I felt fear. Real fear. My heart stopped. I don't mean that metaphorically. My heart honestly stopped beating. I felt a presence. Something dark. Something sinister. I felt it grow closer. I remember the one thought I had.

I don't want to die.

There was a house at the foot of the hill. A light in an upstairs window turned on. Although faint, it cast an incredible glow. I never realized how dark the night could be with the moon and stars.

When the light hit me, I was able to breathe again. I ran.

For the rest of the night, I stayed in my apartment. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. I could only hear that sound. I had no rest until dawn. Only then, with the warm light everywhere, was I able to sleep. My dreams, however, were dark.

Time passed. I figured it was all a product of my overactive brain. A panic attack induced by the trauma of that case. I forgot it. Mostly.

A year later I was at the house of Lois O'Neill. There were many differences between this scene and the deserted hillside. This was a house. Brightly lit. There were still people inside. A few cops. The media and gawking civilians lined up outside. Lois's body had already been removed. The man who shot her was already in custody. We were just tying up loose ends.

I was alone in the bedroom. All the lights were on. I felt safe.

Then I heard it. Scratching. Something was scratching at the window. We were on the second floor. Although I knew better, curiosity outweighed my sense of reason. I stepped to the window and peered out.

What I saw terrified me. I could make out the outline of a head. It mirrored the reflection of my own. But there was no face. Only dark, rubbery skin existed where eyes, nose and mouth did not. I remember letting out a scream and falling back.

I don't want to die.

One of the cops came into the room and asked if I were alright. I looked at the window. Nothing was there. I said I was.

When I got home, I turned on every light and closed every curtain and blind. Sleep did not come until mid-day.

Once again, I forgot. As well as I could anyway. I figured my imagination was projecting. All the death I had seen was surely getting to me. These were only waking dreams. Or nightmares.

Life went on. Things seemed to get normal again and life appeared cheerier. When I was attacked by that mob, my thoughts never turned to my terrors. I didn't think about death. I only thought about the evidence. Even as I lay on the ground, I could only think of getting the evidence back to the lab. I was scared but I didn't feel fear. Not as I had that night on the hillside.

After I was released from the hospital, my mind was focused on other things. The life I had taken for instance. I couldn't stop seeing the unnatural eyes. They haunted me more than any faceless entity. At least, it did. Until I had another encounter.

I thought it was going to be my lucky night. I got 419 at an Italian restaurant. I had it solo. Unfortunately, the body was found in a dumpster in the back alley. I had to sift through the garbage in an attempt to distinguish blood from pasta sauce.

After my first run through, I had to go back. I wasn't looking forward to it. I was sick of the smell of Ragu. I had just parked my vehicle and had started toward the alley, when I heard it again.

This time, I closed my eyes. I didn't want to go through this again. I could already identify the sounds clearly. I heard them at least twice a month in my dreams.

Silently, I willed the sounds to go away. Miraculously, they had. Taking a breath of relief, I opened my eyes.

To my utter horror, I saw the shadow sitting atop the dumpster. At least, I think it was sitting. I definitely saw an arm stretched out and reaching into the trash. The head moved up and it 'looked' at me. I'm not sure if that's accurate, but I could feel its gaze upon me.

The thing moved. I think it did anyway. The body was facing fully toward me. Its arm slowly crept back up to its side. It just sat there.

I couldn't scream. I couldn't blink. I couldn't breathe.

It stood up and I swear my heart stopped. I was in the middle of a vast metropolis, and all was silent.

I don't want to die.

Headlights flashed at the other end of the alley. A car had just pulled in. Looked like the driver was trying to turn around.

The creature was gone. But this time, not forgotten.

My friends thought my lack of sleep was from lingering issues with my civil case. When asked, I told them just that. What would they think if I said I had been seeing a moving shadow, a living creature of night?

My dreams got worse. But so did my waking world. I started looking around every crime scene in a paranoid manner. After my co-worker was rescued from a death trap, all of my colleagues got a little more jumpy at scenes. My behavior was barely noticed, if at all.

If it was my night off, I wouldn't go out. To go out meant that I would have to venture into the darkness, away from the light. I wasn't brave enough to do that. I knew what was out there. The last thing I wanted was to gain any further notice from… whatever it was.

Then my friend died. Shot in his car in an alley.

I don't know why I did it. After the case was solved and justice had been served, I returned to the scene where he died. I hadn't been there when he could have used me. It was night but I didn't care. I had to go. Absolution.

I stood staring at the drops of blood he had left behind. His last mark on the world apart from the cedar crate he now called home. I hadn't noticed the silence that had fallen.

But I did notice the lone sound that emerged.

Slowly, I had lifted my head and looked around. It didn't take me long to locate it. The living shade rested near the edge of a doorway.

The terror I was feeling only magnified when it did something different. This time it started moving toward me. Its arms were raised slightly. It was coming for me.

I don't want to die.

For the life of me, I can't remember what made it flee this time. There was no light. No one came into the alley. The only thing I remember was waking up in the backseat of a vehicle. One of my friends had come looking for me. She knew I had gone to the alley and wanted to see if I was okay. She wouldn't tell me how she found me though. Her eyes seemed afraid though. And she couldn't look at me fully.

It was as though she thought I had lost my mind. I believe I might have.

Things got worse in the weeks after. I felt the eyes on me. Not from my colleagues, though they did stare. No, something else was watching me. Something without eyes.

Now here I am. Every light is on in my apartment. The door is locked. The windows are closed. Yet I am more terrified than I have been in my life. I'm not sure if all the light I can muster is enough. Dawn is still hours away.

If you come into this apartment, I wonder if you'll be able to hear it. The last sound I'm making. The cadence of my last breath.

God I hope I'm going insane. I can hear it. Something is scratching at my window. I'm on the fourth floor. There is no window ledge.

I don't want to die.


End file.
